‘Cheeky sod!’ I laughed. ‘Are you sure you don’t want a coffee?’ I asked, hoping now that the air was clear she’d stay a bit longer.
‘I’m sorry, I really do need to dash. But text me as soon as you’ve spoken to Scott – I want details!’ She stood up, leaned over and kissed me on the cheek before disappearing.
I sat and finished my coffee, pondering my next move. With no real means of contacting Scott, I was left with only one option – visiting him. And the last time I’d done that had been so awkward that I really wasn’t planning on doing it again any time soon.
As I stepped outside the coffee shop, it started to rain. Typical Manchester weather. I searched frantically in my bag for an umbrella, but I didn’t have one. ‘Bugger,’ I muttered to nobody in particular. I pulled my jacket over my head and scurried back towards work.
‘Mel!’ a voice called from behind me, just as I was nearing the entrance to the NorthStyle offices.
I spun round to glare at whoever was holding me back from the dry sanctuary of the building. As I set eyes on the drenched, sorry-looking, floppy-haired figure before me, my breath caught in my throat.
‘Scott?’ I whispered. He didn’t speak. Instead, fixing his gaze on me, he walked confidently towards me. My heart fluttered as he grabbed me around my waist and stared into my eyes. The corner of his mouth curled into a small smile. I’d never seen him look so intense before.
I took a deep breath, waiting for his next move. His head lowered towards mine as cold raindrops streaked down our faces. Leaning in, he pressed his warm lips to mine. He wrapped his other arm around my shoulder, his hand cupping my head, pulling me in closer. I could have stayed in this embrace for ever.
A million emotions exploded inside of me. Gently, he pulled away. He still didn’t speak; he just stared into my eyes. He looked so serious. My instinct was to make a joke, lighten the mood, but I didn’t want to spoil the moment. My body longed for him.
‘I’m done messing about, Mel. I’ll be here when you finish work, and I’m taking you out.’ He kissed me on the forehead and walked off. I was left standing in the rain, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
***
The afternoon really dragged. To distract myself, I went into the kitchen to make a coffee. ‘Check out the cat that got the cream.’ Simon, who was oblivious to most things, had noticed my grin, which meant I was still sporting it. An hour and fifteen minutes after Scott left me floating in the entrance to work.
‘Are you ever at your desk?’ I snapped defensively.
‘Ooh, okay. Can’t be work-related so it must be a man. Did you swipe right on Tinder?’ He smirked.
‘Okay, fine. Yes, it’s related to a man, and no, not from a website. Scott, in fact.’ I continued my story right up to our surprise embrace outside work at lunchtime.
‘So why the snappiness?’ he asked.
I tapped my nails on the worktop. ‘I just can’t concentrate.’
‘You’re nervous.’ He shrugged.
‘Maybe a little.’ I huffed.
***
The time was fast approaching five o’clock. My body was awash with nerves. I’d barely written a sentence all afternoon. I just couldn’t concentrate. The ‘what-if’ questions were racing through my mind like cars in a Grand Prix, but I pushed them out of my head. I’d had enough of the ‘what ifs’.
Just before it was time to leave, I scurried into the toilets for a self-appraisal. It wasn’t good. Being caught in the rain earlier hadn’t helped – my hair had waved slightly on one side, considerably on the other, and I’d acquired a sprinkling of frizz all over. My make-up had almost vanished, but luckily my die-hard Benefit mascara had stayed put.
I rummaged in my handbag to assess my emergency supplies. Chewing gum, a nude lipstick and a brush. I took the brush to my hair, which didn’t help much at all, and popped on the lippy. I chewed some gum for just long enough to freshen up my mouth. I ran my fingers through my hair in a last-ditch attempt to tame it, and finally, I was as ready as I was ever going to be.
A surge of energy ran to my fingertips. I stretched them out to try and avoid them trembling. Taking a deep breath, I walked outside, feeling like a schoolgirl going to meet her crush.
The rain had stopped. I looked around, and our eyes met. He looked nervous too, his earlier bravado apparently departed. I smiled warmly to ease his tension, but neither one of us spoke. We stood about a metre apart. I was aware of my heartbeat, racing like a drumroll leading up to a big announcement.
He inched forwards. When he was close enough, he touched my fingertips and entwined his fingers in mine, pulling me in until our faces almost touched. We were so close I could feel the warmth of his breath. I gulped, frozen to the spot with anticipation. Finally, he brought his mouth to mine. Hot, full lips moved in sync with my own. He grabbed the back of my head, pulling me in closer, harder. Every inch of my body was part of the kiss.
He slowed down and gently pulled away, planting several little kisses on my mouth as he did. Then he smiled and took one of my hands in his own. ‘Mel, I’m sorry for walking out of your apartment the other day, and I’m sorry for not getting in touch sooner—’
I held my finger up to his lips. ‘It’s okay. I know everything,’ I whispered.
‘But—’
‘No buts. I know you’ve cleared the air with Emma, and I know you just needed time. It was a big thing,’ I said, squeezing his hand. He sighed in defeat.
‘Well, thank you for understanding.’ He dropped a soft kiss on my forehead. ‘You know, I had a whole date planned. I was going to woo you today.’ He chuckled.
‘Woo me?’ I laughed. ‘And why the hell didn’t you?’
‘Well, I thought about Joseph, and about how none of that big showy stuff matters – you know, the limos, the posh apartment and dinner. What matters is that we’re here together, of our own accord. Nobody’s boss has set us up, neither of us has lied on our online dating profile, nor did we have to swipe left or right, whichever way it is. The point is we’ve come so far already. So, for tonight at least, no flowers, no fancy meals and no dodgy chip kebabs. You and I, my dear, are going to walk this beautiful city, be ourselves and maybe grab a cocktail and a pizza later. How does that sound?’
‘Perfect.’
Epilogue
Around twelve months later . . .
‘I can’t believe it’s almost finished,’ I shriek with excitement.
‘Me neither,’ he says softly. Coming up behind me, he snakes his arms around my bulging tummy and kisses me warmly on the neck.
‘And in plenty of time too.’ I lean my head to rest on his. He walks around me and faces me straight on.
‘A year ago, I couldn’t have imagined being this happy, Mel. I actually pinched myself this morning to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.’
‘Me neither.’ I smile, turning to kiss his cheek. ‘Anyway, no time for soppiness. The others will be here in a few hours and we still need to dress the tables. Don’t forget, both of our mothers are attending, and I don’t think either of them has forgiven us for eloping.’ I’m panicking already. He smiles a half-smile before leaning down and planting a kiss on my rounded belly.
‘Gretna Green was on the way up here!’ he protests. ‘It just made sense.’ Focusing back on my stomach, he whispers, ‘I’m going to love you for ever, little person. Just ignore your grumpy mummy.’
A grin erupts on my face, and I run my fingers through his soft hair.
‘Anyway,’ he says, standing up, ‘I came down because I wanted to show you something. Come with me.’ He takes my hand and leads me up the stone staircase to the second floor. We walk down the corridor stopping outside the nursery.
‘Is it ready?’ I ask, wide-eyed. He nods. This was the room Scott wanted to decorate the most. I was a bit apprehensive about letting him do it alone, but I’d been in charge of refurbishing the rest of the building, so it was only fair to let Scott do this one r
oom. I’ve been prohibited from entering until now. Last time I saw it, it looked like it hadn’t been touched since Queen Victoria ruled.
‘Okay, close your eyes.’
I oblige, and he leads me in. I hold my breath.
‘Okay, now open them.’
I gasp. It’s beautiful. A fluffy light grey carpet covers the hard stone floor. The walls are so amazing I want to cry. They’re decorated with scenes from our life; it’s our story.
Pale yellow silhouettes of skiers and soft grey walkers are surrounded by pastel green hills and water. A soft but colourful skyline of Manchester adorns one wall, the buildings done in green, blue, pink and yellow pastels. Grey stars are painted above the tall buildings, and in between are tiny hearts, entwined with the city. A white sleigh cot and matching dresser stand proudly at the side of the room, and a pale grey and white padded wooden nursing chair sits by the window.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ I manage to say before a flood of tears erupts. Between sobs I manage a little bit more: ‘Oh Scott—’ sob ‘—it is the—’ sob ‘—most beautiful nursery. Our little one—’ sob, sob ‘—will be the luckiest baby on the planet to have a daddy like you.’
Scott flings his arms around me and whispers into my ear. ‘I’m glad you like it. Our baby will have two fantastic parents.’ He kisses me then dabs my eyes with his sleeve. I see tears forming in his eyes too. ‘Anyway—’ he sniffs ‘—we’d better get cracking. Grand-openings-slash-belated-wedding-receptions don’t organise themselves.’
I scurry downstairs to add the finishing touches. It’s just the name cards left to do. I put our parents near the front; it would be one less thing for them to complain about – moving to Scotland and getting married behind their backs would provide them with enough grumble-worthy material for now. Still, the baby bump will soften the blow. They can’t be cross at a pregnant lady.
I’m so excited to see everyone. We’d moved to Scotland in such a rush. Once the money from Scott’s half of the house sale had come through, we’d been talking about how wonderful Scotland was. Scott had always loved it here, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it once I’d got home: the beauty, the tranquillity and such friendly people.
Once Scott and I fell in love, the city life wasn’t what I wanted. I no longer needed to be walking distance from a department store, I didn’t need to pop out and sit in a coffee shop to pass the time and going to trendy bars became something I wished I’d sacrificed for a cosy night in with Scott.
It was Scott’s suggestion to move and it felt right; all we needed was each other. We’d got in touch with Billy, who ran the pub near Loch Lomond on the off chance he was still planning to sell. As luck would have it, he was just about to put it on the market. It was all too perfect! We decided to use Scott’s money from the house, and I sold my flat to Stoner Dan, who had been renting but wanted ‘more security’ and had been waiting to buy somewhere in our block because it helped his ‘creativity’, whatever that meant. I never did find out what he did for a living.
We had enough money for a sizeable deposit on the pub and some left over for renovations. Neither of us had ever run a pub before, but we were willing to give it a go. Scott proposed just before we left. I cried, he cried; it was beautiful. We’d been out walking around Dovestone Reservoir, and it was blowing a gale. He turned to face me, and I could barely hear him because of the wind, but diamonds speak volumes.
It was the happiest day of my life. We didn’t tell anyone. It was enough that my mum had essentially picked Scott out for me, so the wedding we kept to ourselves. Of course, everyone was livid once they found out we’d eloped, but when they arrive today, I’m sure they’ll forget about being angry.
I fully enjoyed slamming my resignation letter on Dee’s desk, and now, I’m my own boss, well, until this baby arrives that is. After the success of my follow-up article, I’d become her protégée, her star in the making, and could do no wrong. She seemed to have forgotten all about how she’d made my working life hell, so naturally she tried her hardest to make me stay. I enjoyed having the upper hand for a while, accepting sweeteners such as a Mulberry Lily bag and a new iPad, but I stayed true to my decision and left.
My leaving do was . . . interesting. It seemed that Joseph and Dee had got quite close after Scotland (or before – who really knows?). She actually invited him to meet us at Epernay. They were quite cosy, to say the least, until Dee’s husband turned up to find them looking cosier than friends should. I don’t know who told him to come – I suspected Amanda, or even Simon – but I did hear afterwards he’d kicked her out.
Scott and I have so much to look forward to now – the pub, the baby, being married – I’ve hardly looked back. I’d not been able to shake this place from my mind since the day I’d stopped for a bowl of soup. It’s a beautiful place to raise children; we can sail in the summer, ski in the winter (once the baby comes, of course) and go for stunning walks all year round. Glasgow isn’t too far away if we ever miss the city life.
I’m just placing the last few name cards on the round table when I pause and smile. Doris. I was so glad she’d agreed to come. As I place her on the same table as Lizzie and her horde, the doorbell rings. I squeal with excitement. I can’t wait to see everyone.
Copyright
HQ
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First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017
Copyright © Victoria Cooke 2017
Victoria Cooke asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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E-book Edition © March 2017 ISBN: 9780008243913
The Secret to Falling in Love Page 23